


To Remember Home By

by sister_coyote



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Backstory, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-03
Updated: 2007-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_coyote/pseuds/sister_coyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tifa caught her breath when Cloud put a bottle of apple cider on the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Remember Home By

Tifa caught her breath when Cloud put a bottle of apple cider on the table. "Where on earth did you—?"

"I found it," he said. "In one of the stores in the city." 'The city' in that context always meant the ruin of Midgar, the ghost town of ruined buildings and drifting reactor dust; Edge was just Edge. "I know the food in there is tainted, but this stuff is bottled so tight I think it'll be okay."

"I think you're right," she said, feeling her throat go tight. She put her hand over her mouth. Nibelheim cider, fermented and bottled by the Whitecrest family—no longer available for love or money. Except here. "It's—" she said, and heard the uneven tremor in her voice despite her efforts to suppress it.

"Oh, don't," Cloud said, a little desperately. "I didn't bring it back to make you cry."

"You didn't!" she said, and flung her arms around him. After a moment Cloud put one arm shakily around her, and then the other. "No, it's—I'm happy. I really am. I just didn't expect it."

"Come here," Cloud said, "sit down." She sat down next to him, leaning her shoulder into his side, and his fingers raked through her hair until her breathing evened out. "You okay?"

"Fine," she said, "really. Happy." She turned his face toward her for a kiss, soft, and then wiped her eyes. "Thank you."

They stayed there like that a few minutes, comfortable, and then he rubbed her shoulder and asked, "You want me to pour you a glass?"

She thought _maybe we should save it_—but decided not to say it. "Sure."

He disentangled himself from her and got up to pour two glasses. It—okay, sitting on the shelf for three years hadn't done the cider a lot of good; it wasn't the kind of thing that bettered with age. But still, the taste was so familiar that she rolled it around in her mouth, leaning back against him, and then kissed him to taste it on his lips, too. "Not bad," she said.

"You remember helping with the apple harvest?" Cloud asked. "Up on those ladders?"

"Do I? The first year I was old enough to do it, I fell off and twisted my ankle. I thought for sure my father wasn't going to let me the next year." She hummed a little as Cloud raked his fingertips through her hair with his free hand.

"And then grinding the apples in the hopper—it's a wonder nobody ever lost a finger."

She giggled, taking another sip. "That seems like such a long time ago."

"I know."

"But it's nice to have something to remember home by again," she said, and this time she didn't feel the urge to cry.

"I know," Cloud said again, but his voice sounded funny. When she raised her head, she could see that he was looking right at her.


End file.
